Page 81 of Killer Kiss

And that a sex club was the perfect place to take out some unwanted sexual frustrations.

22

OPHELIA

“No. Hell no. Not even a tiny little chance of yes.”

I glared at my younger brother and shoved away his outstretched hand that was currently preventing me from getting inside his club.

“You can glare at me all you want, sis, but I am not letting you inside. Do you even know what goes on during these parties?”

I widened my eyes and batted my eyelashes at him. “You sit around in your Sunday best and drink tea with your pinkies raised and eat cucumber sandwiches, right?”

Scythe nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! That’s exactly what we do, and that is not your scene, so on your way.” He flickered his fingers in a dismissive manner. “Skedaddle.”

“Do I look like I’m dressed to skedaddle?” I went for the belt on my trench coat, knowing exactly what would happen before I could get it undone.

Scythe slammed his eyes closed and put his hands over ears. “La, la, la! Not listening! Not seeing! Could someone please bring me some bleach? I need to remove even the thought of what you were about to do. In fact, just give me a lobotomy right here, right now! Take my brains! Take them all!”

I rolled my eyes and strode past him and his theatrics, Augie following close behind me.

“He’s so dramatic,” I told Augie. “That would have never worked with Vincent.”

By the time Scythe opened his eyes and realized what I’d done, a group of other people had done the same.

“I see what you did there, Ophelia!” he shouted over the crowd of people between us. “I’m not happy!”

I stuck my middle finger up in the air and kept walking. “Then stay outside tonight, brother. We’ll both be happier for it!”

If he replied, I didn’t hear it. I followed the people in front of me through a curtained-off doorway into a cloakroom. The sex club stretched out on the other side, a stark difference to the bar I was more familiar with.

By day, Psychos was a dive bar. A scummy hole-in-the-wall place that attracted locals from the biker club and no-hopers from the trailer park.

But a couple times a month, people came from both Saint View and Providence and even from as far as the city to attend the secret underground sex parties my brother and his partners threw in the adjoining rooms of the building.

On these nights, sultry music filled the air. People shed clothes at the door in favor of sexy outfits, lingerie, or nothing at all. The club became a den of iniquity. Women and men alike danced in gold gilded cages spread out around the warehouse-sized rooms. Others took it further, fingers wrapped around hard erections or rubbing over clits. A full-blown threesome took place in one cage, a small group of people standing around, watching.

“Holy shit,” I whispered, standing in the doorway, watching it all unfold in front of me.

“Ophelia!” A curvy auburn-haired woman rushed over, her pregnant belly poking out between her lacy bra and panty lingerie set. She threw her arms around me, hugging me tight. “I didn’t know you were coming!”

My sister-in-law, Bliss, was about the sweetest woman to ever walk the earth. She’d inherited the club when her brother had died, but it still kind of blew my mind that she’d continued to run it. She was so…nice. I’d never been able to picture her working here, and yet right now she was as comfortable about the orgy going on behind her as she was when she talked about the baby she was due to have in a few months.

“Scythe nearly didn’t let me in,” I admitted to her.

She laughed. “My brother never let me come here when he was alive either. Can’t really blame him. Nobody wants to see their sibling…you know.”

The fact she owned this club but still said, ‘you know’ instead of just saying ‘fuck’ was amusing. I couldn’t help but like the woman. Not liking her would be like not liking puppies.

Only psychopaths didn’t like puppies. My brother, for example, had an ongoing war with a little white dog he’d rescued.

“We aren’t planning on…partaking,” I told her. “So he doesn’t have anything to worry about.”

Bliss’s gaze slid to Augie, who was standing a few inches behind me and a little to my right. She squinted at him, then must have realized she was being a bit awkward because she held her hand out to him. “Hi. Sorry. I was just staring at you like a massive creep, wasn’t I?”

“He’s used to women staring at him,” I told her sarcastically.

Augie flicked his elbow out in protest, but I dodged the half-hearted rebuke.

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